Tales of an Amnesic Slytherin
by whizardlychic
Summary: The future makes no sense unless you understand the past...So what happens when Draco loses his memory, and the only source to the past is Hermione, a girl that Draco thinks he's just met? Partial AU during HBP and onwards.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Ok, so I know I shouldn't really be starting another story while I still have _Forgive and Forget_ in the process of being written, but this idea came into my head suddenly and I really wanted to write it. So, I've posted this first chapter and I'm going to leave it up for people to see and review about what they think. Then, when I feel that I'm in a good solid place with _Forgive and Forget _I'll continue this one. Who knows, I might even write the second chapter sooner rather than later. Either way, please review and tell me what you think!_

* * *

When he opened his eyes, the room he was in turned blurry and all of the colors started to blend together. His head hurt and was throbbing, distorting his vision even more. He decided to close his eyes and lay back down. That's when the wave of burning pain shot through him like lightning; he held on to the railing of the bed until his knuckles turned white.

It stopped just as quickly and unexpectedly as it had started. He felt different, as if something inside of him had changed. He then heard footsteps, the sound echoing unpleasantly in his head.

"Mr. Malfoy?" said a sweet voice, "_Mr. Malfoy?_" He wondered if it was his mother, but all he could manage was a moan. "Oh dear," the woman whispered.

Then the door slammed open and his head hurt again.

"Oh, Draco! My poor little boy!" That, he _knew _was his mother, so he tried his hardest to open his eyes again, even though the light burned him. "Sweetheart," she whispered, running a hand through his hair, "Darling, how are you?"

"My head hurts," he said, and then looking around, "Where am I, exactly?"

Narcissa put a hand to her chest, a pained expression in her eyes. "You're in Hogwarts, Draco. The hospital wing," she whispered, scared for her son.

"Hogwarts?" he asked, "Since when did I start going to Hogwarts?" Even as he asked, he knew it was possible. His whole body felt new, older, stronger. It was obvious he still wasn't eleven years old.

His mother let out a loud sob and moved away from the bed, turning her back to Draco, as if by not looking at him she wouldn't see the truth in his question, the confusion.

"What did I say?" he asked her helplessly.

The nurse, he realized that she was by her uniform, looked at him sympathetically. "Mr. Malfoy, you've been going to Hogwarts since you were eleven. You are now sixteen years of age and you had an acident where you hit your head. Based on the circumstances and the tests we've run, it may be that you have-

"_DON'T SAY IT_!" shrieked Narcissa, her eyes wide and bloodshot.

The nurse looked pained, but continued. "Amnesia, Mr. Malfoy."

Narcissa gasped and fainted on the couch nearest to her, while Draco suddenly felt numb and couldn't get a word out.

"I'm so sorry," the nurse told him sadly.

"Isn't there anything you can do about it?" he croaked, "My father surely can talk to people that will know how to fix this!"

"Well, not for the time being," the nurse informed him, "We cannot risk performing a spell directly to your mind and we just don't have the proper ingredients to make the specific potion."

"Why not? Why can't Hogwarts, the best wizarding school in England, get the proper ingredients? It's absurd!" yelled Draco, shaking.

The nurse pursed her lips. "Mr. Malfoy, we've never had to do something like this, normally it's just the confundus spell that makes people lose their memories. But this is a direct hit to the head, and we need a potion to help heal your brain."

"How long will it take to get them?" he asked, more softly.

"We don't know," she replied, "Weeks, maybe months. They're all so rare. If you'd like, I can leave you to your thoughts for a while, you may rest, you have a lot to deal with. Dumbledore will be in soon."

Draco nodded silently as she left him alone to his thoughts. The problem was, most of his thoughts were outdated and would not help him at all, he didn't even know what this Dumbledore person looked like. Luckily, he didn't have much time to dwell on this as a tall old man with a long silvery beard and half-moon spectacles entered the hospital wing moments after.

"Dumbledore?" asked Draco, slowly, cautiously.

The old man smiled and nodded. "Yes, Draco, I'm afraid you don't remember me."

Draco shook his head, he felt stupid. "They tell me I have amnesia. Me, out of all people!"

"Well," said Dumbledore with a little chuckle, "You were doing some questionable things."

Draco winced, "What exactly was I doing?"

"Well, if I've heard correctly, you and your friends, Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle, were trying to jump off a moving staircase."

"Ugh, and I fell? How bloody embarassing," mumbled Draco, and then more audibly asked, "Crabbe and Goyle go here, too?"

"Yes," said Dumbledore, "They're in Slytherin."

"Am I in Slytherin?" asked Draco quickly, worriedly, hoping that he was, if not his father and many others would be extremely displeased.

"Of course," Dumbledore replied, a twinkle in his eye.

"Good," breathed Draco, letting out a sigh of relief. "How long do you think I won't be able to remember anything?"

"I believe Madame Pomfrey has informed you that we do not know of the consequences of your fall."

"Right," muttered Draco, "I just thought that you might."

Dumbledore nodded wisely, "We can't know everything, Mr. Malfoy. Although we do have a tutor set up for you so that you can stay ahead in all of your classes. She's the brightest in your year."

"Well, at least that's worked out," said Draco bitterly. The last thing he was worrying about were his grades.

"That is a good thing, you know, grades are quite important," said Dumbledore, "I've actually brought her here so that you can get a proper first introduction. Although this would be the second time for that."

"You mean, I know her?" he asked, wondering now more than ever who she could be.

"Yes, you've known her for six years, but I suppose you're going to have to introduce yourself all over again," said Dumbledore, and when Malfoy groaned, he added, "You know, Draco, sometimes a fresh start isn't always a bad thing."

Draco looked at him, puzzled, but he couldn't ask him what he meant because right that instant a girl walked into the hospital wing.

"Professor, did you need me?" she asked, but then stopped, embarassed, noticing that Dumbledore was in the middle of something.

"It's alright, Miss Granger, this is why I called. This here, is Mr. Draco Malfoy," said Dumbledore, pointing to the blonde boy with the headbandage on the hospital wing bed.

Hermione crinkled her nose in disgust almost and said, "We know each other, Professor."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. What was_ her _problem?

"Yes, I know that," said Dumbledore with an amused smile, "However, he does not. You see, he had an accident that has caused him amnesia."

Hermione put a hand to her mouth, "Oh," she said softly. "I didn't know."

"It's quite alright," said Dumbledore, and Draco shrugged.

"Sorry, I'm Hermione Granger," she said, more politely; however she still looked a little distant.

"Hi," said Draco, simply.

"Miss Granger, I wanted to ask you a favor," Dumbledore told her.

Hermione looked uncomfortable, "Sure thing, Professor." Yet to Draco, it didn't look like she was too sure about this. Why didn't she like him? Who didn't?

"Well, since you are the brightest witch your age," he said (Hermione blushed), "I was hoping that you could tutor Draco in his classes."

"Er, well- you see, I, uh." She was fidgeting with her hands and didn't know what to say, but then she looked into Dumbledore's eyes and couldn't help but reply, "Of course."

"Good," said Dumbledore with a smile, "That's settled, then. Tomorrow, when Draco gets out of the hospital wing, you'll begin the sessions." He got up and his emerald cloak flowed behind him. He turned to Draco, "Good luck, Mr. Malfoy. Remember what I told you." Then he winked and walked out the door.

"I think- maybe- I should leave," said Hermione, shuffling her feet, "You need rest, I suppose."

"Alright," said Draco, but for some reason he didn't want her to leave. "See you tommorrow then."

Hermione nodded and walked quickly out into the dark hallways. Draco sighed, looked at his mother, still passed out on the couch, and tied to go back to sleep. The only place that he didn't feel pressured to say the right things or act the right way. He'd have to start getting to know this older Draco, and he wasn't sure if he could deal with it all.

At least there'd be that girl who seemed to know him. Maybe she could answer some questions. What was her name again?

But Draco never was able to remember that night, because he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

_A/N: So this is my new story idea, please review!_


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Ok, so here's the thing. This story will be based on their sixth year at Hogwarts. It won't be following ALL of Half-Blood Prince, but it will run somewhat parallel to Draco's story in the sixth book. So don't expect it to be directly exact and perfect with the plot that J.K. Rowling wrote for that book, but do expect references and events that happen because of what's SUPPOSED to happen. Hope that's not too confusing :) Please read and review!_

* * *

"Are you mad?!"cried Ron, after Hermione had told him of Dumbledore's favor.

"Of course not," she replied defensively, crossing her arms in front of her, "But Dumbledore asked me to, and surely Harry can relate to this, right? Every time he asks you to do something you don't question it. So there must be a good reason for this, too."

Harry looked at Ron and knew that Hermione was making sense. "Sorry, mate, but I'd do it if he asked me."

"You two are bloody insane," he said, feeling attacked, "How do you know Malfoy's not faking it, eh? What if he's just pretending not to remember anything to get closer to Hermione!"

Hermione raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Why would he ever want to get close to me? I'm a Muggleborn, remember?"

Ron blushed. "I don't care that you're a Muggleborn," he mumbled, and then loudly he said, "Maybe from you he can get information on Harry!"

"You really are thick enough to think I'd give information away? Harry's my best friend!" she cried.

"I-I didn't mean it that way. Really, I'm sure you'd never do that," he said softly.

"Then what are you talking about?" said Harry, exasperatedly, having enough of this pointless arguing.

"I don't know," said Ron honestly, "I guess I'm just worried."

"You don't have to worry about me," said Hermione, more calmly, "I'll be just fine. Remember, I'm _your_ friend, not Malfoy's. I'm just his tutor. I always have you two's best interests. You mustn't forget that."

"We know, Hermione," said Harry, and then he looked at Ron expectantly. But his friend was just looking at Hermione with pained eyes and Harry felt sorry for him.

Hermione groaned, "You are being so overly dramatic, Ronald."

"What are you saying?" he croaked, snapping out of his daze.

"I'm saying that I can take care of myself." With that in mind, Hermione got up from her seat and walked straight out of the common room.

* * *

Hermione reached the library a few minutes earlier than scheduled, so she decided it wise to set up her books, that way she wouldn't have to focus on what she was going to go through for the next hour. After all her things were organized by order of her class schedule, she heard footsteps and turned around. Her face turned bright red, because the first thing she saw were red heart boxers.

"Oh Merlin," she muttered, completely embarassed.

"What is it? Am I late? If you're going to yell at me, I'll bloody curse you," he said heatedly, and then quietly added, "Although I've forgotten how..." It seemed that Draco was completely unaware that he had also forgotten to wear pants.

"Er, Malfoy, you- the hearts?" she finished lamely, sucking in her lips in attempt to stop from laughing.

Draco looked mortified as he tilted his head down and saw that he infact had walked out of the hospital wing without his trousers. "Damn it!" he cried, quickly sitting down in Hermione's table and covering his bare legs with his school cloak. "Can we just get on with this?" he whispered quickly.

"Why don't you just go get your pants?" asked Hermione, a smile playing on her lips.

"I would, but I can't just go walking around pantless. I refuse to give these stupid people a chance to mock me."

Hermione looked from side to side and whispered very softly, "You just did."

Draco glared at her, "Can't you do a spell that'll bring them to me? I forgot all of the spells I've learned, it's terribly inconvenient."

Hermione shook her head, although she new far more than five spells that could get Draco his pants back. She was just having too much fun getting revenge. "No, I'm sorry, we haven't learned any yet."

"So, that means I haven't either, right? Incapable teachers..."

"Sure," said Hermione, shrugging, "Just one thing. How did you not realize you didn't have pants on?"

Draco rolled his eyes, "I've just been trying to act normal, like how I've probably been acting these past six years: poised, superior and such; that's taken up a bunch of space in my head. So I forget the stupid pointless things that are everyday, like wearing bloody trousers."

Hermione felt slightly bad for him, although not enough to bring him his pants. That's when she noticed his left forearm was bandaged.

"I thought you only hit your head," she said, looking at the cast, and not having to explain herself Draco answered her.

"I don't know. Apparantely Crabbe landed on it, the imbecile. But I don't understand why they didn't just perform a spell. I know they must have a spell to fix broken bones," said Draco, examining the bandage.

"They do, they used it on Harry," she told him.

"Harry who?" asked Draco dismissively, not even bothering to look up.

Hermione wondered whether or not she should tell him. Surely it wouldn't do any harm for him to know, it wasn't as if they were enemies, at least not in Draco's mind. Yet, maybe she shouldn't...But Draco probably had the right to know. She didn't like him, but that didnt' mean she would repress information from him.

"Harry Potter," she told him quickly.

"Harry _Potter_?" said Draco incredulously, "This is perfect. My father told me I should befriend Potter, it'd probably be good for social standards, you know."

"I think you've lost that chance," Hermione muttered incoherently.

"What did you say?" asked Draco.

Hermione blushed, "Oh, nothing. Just that I think we should begin with reviewing."

"Sure, I don't care. It's not as if I have a choice, do I?"

"No," she told him plainly, "Not really."

They reviewed painfully slowly in the library for over an hour, that's when Hermione decided to check what time it is. She gasped, realizing she nearly missed Ancient Runes.

"What is it?" asked Draco, bored and sick of studying.

"I'm going to nearly miss my class, and you, too," she added, remembering the other thing Dumbledore had told her.

"What are you bloody talking about?" Draco looked up from his drawings that he was meticulously doing on the paper he was supposed to be writing facts on. Hermione noticed this.

"You're not supposed to be drawing on your notes, Malfoy!" she chided him, "I've been sacrificing my research time to teach you what you've missed, and that's difficult seeing that I have to start from second year. Bloody hell, we're never going to get done, you know. Dumbledore's just hoping that you'll get your memory back before the school year ends."

Draco squinted his eyes suspiciously. "You don't like me, do you? I mean, we're not friends or anything."

Hermione sighed; so she _had _been obvious. "You could put it that way, I suppose."

Draco snorted, "Well, why not?"

"It's a long story, long history," said Hermione with a bitter smile.

Suddenly, though, Draco felt himself fall back in his mind and he was outside and all he saw was grass. "You foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach!" someone yelled angrily, and then his left eye stung. He instinctively put a hand up to it, moaning.

"What is it?" asked Hermione, "Does your head hurt still?"

Draco put his hand down, the pain gone as he snapped back to the library setting. He looked at her curiously, "No, I'm fine. It's just that...well, it felt as if someone punched me in my left eye."

Hermione blinked several times. Was he talking about what she thought he was talking about? She suddenly felt herself turn slightly red. "Well, it's probably just a side effect," she said, reasurring herself as well.

Draco shrugged. "Didn't you have to go to a class or something?"

Hermione intook a sharp breath, "Yes!" she gasped, "And you do, too! Let's go!" She grabbed him by the hand and sprinted down the hallways, Draco struggling to keep his robes shut with his other hand, knowing it'd be social suicide if anyone saw his underpants. And that was the last thing he needed right now.

About an hour later, Hermione emerged from the classroom, happily thinking about what she would write her essay on, due next week Friday. She was in the middle of deciding her thesis statement when she felt a presence next to her. She quickly turned her head to the side and saw Draco walking next to her, his hands holding his cloak together. She raised an eyebrow and coughed.

"Ahem?"

Draco didn't look up, he was too worried about his wardrobe malfunction.

"Ahem! Malfoy!" she whispered viciously.

That's when he noticed she was trying to get his attention. "What do you want?" he asked, somewhat rudely.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Why on earth are you following me?"

Draco thought about this for a moment, before saying, "I don't know."

"Well then, figure it out," she snapped back at him, "And get yourself some trousers already, or you'll get detention for flashing people."

That's when he felt his mind fall back again. "Detention! The four of you!" some stern voice seemed to tell him, and then he was in a forest and there was a dog and a boy with no face, but he had round glasses. Suddenly there was a cloaked figure and it got closer and closer and it was right ontop of him and he saw his father's face...

"Malfoy! Malfoy!"

Draco blinked hard and opened his eyes. Hermione's face was on top of his, her thick hair falling around them like curtains.

"What happened?" he said, dazed, noticing people staring at him oddly as they passed him in the hallway.

"You, well, you passed out, I think," she said, embarrassed to have to tell him this, "Your eyes rolled back and everything. It was kind of scary."

"Ugh, help me up, quickly!" he demanded, but Hermione just huffed and started to walk away. Draco groaned and picked himself up, running after her.

"Did you forget something?" she asked, her head held up.

"Not really," he said plainly.

Hermione stopped and flipped around, so that Draco had to stop quickly so that he wouldn't walk into her. "I think you did, Malfoy. Your _manners. _I understand that you have this amnesia to deal with, but that doesn't mean you have to take it out on others, especially me, who is trying to help you."

"Actually, you," added Draco, jabbing a finger at her, "Were _forced _to help me. That is very different. I bet plenty of people around this school would love to help Draco Malfoy."

Hermione glared at him. "Oh, really? I highly doubt that. You don't remember, but I do. People around here really dislike you, Malfoy. I'd say some even hate you, and that's including me."

Draco poked her squarely in the chest, "I don't think you have the right to talk to me that way."

Hermione rubbed her hand where Draco had hit her, "You jerk! You don't remember anything for the past four years yet you _still _manage to think you're superior to me, all because you're pureblood! As if that makes you any better!"

Draco laughed, "What? As if _you're _not a pureblood?"

Hermione looked at him squarely in the eyes, "No, Malfoy, I'm not."

He stopped laughing, "Halfblood, then? Surely, that's it."

Hermione just shook her head. "And if you have a problem with what I am, Malfoy, don't come crying to me when you've failed every single one of your classes."

With that said, she flipped her hair behind her and promptly marched away from Draco, who stood quiet and alone in the middle of the hallway as crowds of people passed and pushed him, not caring to give him a single bit of their attention.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Alright, new chappie :) Please read and review. And thanks for all of the Story Alerts! You guys are great._

* * *

Draco woke up drenched in sweat, laying on his four-poster bed. It had been the first night he was allowed out of the Hospital Wing, and he had suffered through a horrid nightmare. There was a man, although he wasn't really a man. He had black eyes that sucked you in and made you feel like dying, he had a menacing grin that was joyous when others were in pain. He was someone that Draco never wanted to experience, yet it had seemed so real, as if he already had.

He covered his face with his hands and dragged himself upwards, slumping his shoulders as he sat down and thought. Thought only of what he remembered. Which wasn't much, so it didn't help his feeling that something was missing. Because six years were missing.

Suddenly, his left forearm started throb and he felt as if it was going to explode. His face wrinkled in pain and he just couldn't take it anymore. He started to rip the bandage off savagely, needing to stop this pain. It was when the bandage had completely come off that he realized what was on his arm. He had seen it before on his father, his aunt, his mother, and all of the people he remembers seeing over as a boy. It was a mark.

And then he put the pieces together. That man that haunted his dreams. He had done this to him. He had cursed him. And knowing this, Draco's life would never be the same again.

Afraid for himself, he crudely rebandaged his arm and put on his cloak, trying to clear his mind of what he had just seen. Yet, he could do no such thing. The vein on his temple was pulsing and his world was spinning. He needed something stable. Someone stable.

So, he went to the library.

* * *

Hermione enjoyed the peacefulness of books, the smell of parchment, old and new. She relished soaking up information, facts, history. That's what she wanted to do. She wished to travel the world and learn of the wizarding past, how all of this came to be. However, her thoughts were interrupted when someone slammed down onto the chair in front of her, nearly knocking himself down.

"What are you doing here? We don't have a study session this early in the morning."

Draco was breathing heavily and looking at Hermione as if she could answer his problems, as if she could tell him what to do. She knew everythign else there was to know, so why couldn't she know the answer to this?

"Did you know?" he asked her, the struggle visible in his eyes.

"Did I know what?" Hermione replied, troubled by Draco's obvious tremor.

"Did you know...about me? About what I have? What was done to me?" he said, almost pleadingly, as if his life depended on her answer.

"Draco, you need to be more specific, I have no idea what you're talking about," said Hermione worriedly.

He thrust his arm onto the table. "Did you know about this?!" he cried, his eyes brimming with tears. "Did you know?!"

"Draco," Hermione whispered in an exaggeratedly soft tone of voice. "Don't yell, alright? Please."

He pushed his sleeve back over his arm. "Just tell me if you know," he demanded.

Hermione looked down at his arm, "My friend, Harry, had suspicions. I didn't believe him, though. Sure, you were rotten most of the time with everyone, especially me, but I didn't think you would ever-

"But I didn't choose to be this!" he cried, and then, more softly, and much more cautiously, "At least, I don't think I did."

Hermione looked at him seriously and said, "I don't think you did, either."

"But I _was_ bad, wasn't I?" he asked her guiltily.

She shook her hair out of her face, "I would even say you were cruel."

"I didn't," he started, "I mean, I didn't _hurt _anyone, did I? Really hurt?"

Hermione sighed. "On the train, you paralyzed Harry, covered him with his in- er, cloak, and then you dug your heel into his nose. I'd say that was hurting someone."

Draco looked somewhat ashamed, "Why did I do that? There must've been a good reason."

"He was eavesdropping," Hermione told him, refreshing her feelings of anger and disbelief.

"Well he shouildn't be doing that, should he? That's trespassing privacy, you know," said Draco stubbornly.

Hermione glared at him. "You can't be serious."

"Well, yeah," he said, but then added, "It's wrong, isn't it?" realizing how terrible that actually must have been.

"Yes, it is," Hermione chided, "But you've gotten your fair share of punishments, I'd say."

In a wave of memories, Draco suddenly remembered being very small, very vulnerable, and very...fluffy.

"Hermione?" he asked.

She looked up from the reading she had continued. "What is it?"

"Was I ever transfigured into, well, er-?"

"A ferret?" she finished with a smile.

"Was it a ferret?"

"It was such a ferret," she grinned, and then, "You remembered? How?"

Draco shrugged, "I don't know. Sometimes, when we're studying, I get these lapses where I forget where I am and suddenly go back to the past, I'm guessing, and I remember some things. It's always when I'm with you, though."

Hermione couldn't help but blush. "Oh," she said softly.

"But bloody hell," said Draco, ignoring her subtle flattery, "A damn ferret? Who did that to me?"

Hermione regained her composure and told him, "It was a Death Eater disguised as our, at the time, Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"Clever," said Draco admiringly.

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"I mean, how horrible," he said quickly, jokingly.

Hermione scrutinized him, "Watch yourself."

* * *

Draco was walking out of the library with Hermione when he realized the strange stares he was getting from people.

"Why do they look at me as if I'm some sort of freak?" he asked, glaring back at them, which caused most of the students to turn their heads.

"It's pathetic," Hermione said, "They think that it's strange that you're walking with me since normally you wouldn't be seen even glancing in my direction, unless it was to insult me, of course."

"Well that is a bit strange," he agreed, "I mean, I'd think I'd gone mad."

"Mad?" Hermione turned around and looked at him, "Mad because you're walking with Hermione Granger? The bookworm? The Muggleborn?"

"I didn't mean it like that," said Draco, annoyed that she'd even take it that way.

"Do you think it's embarassing to be seen walking with me?" she asked, walking closer to him, causing him to move backwards against a wall. "Is it bad for your reputation?"

"Well, I don't know. I can't remember what my reputation was, exactly," said Draco, uncomfortably noticing how close they were and how hard the wall felt against his back.

Hermione groaned and flipped her hair around before walking away. "I'll see you at our study session," she called out, not even bothering to turn her head to look at him.

Draco widened his eyes in disbelief. _She _could get a bit touchy. He started to walk towards the Great Hall for lunch when a pair of hands covered his eyes; he screamed, and the hands came off his face.

"Bloody hell, Draco, don't panic, it's only me," said a voice.

Draco turned around and saw a girl dressed in Slytherin robes, with big dark eyes, dark brown hair cut into a bob, and fierce red lips. "Sorry," he said, pathetically, "But who are you?"

The girl sighed sadly. "I was hoping you wouldn't say that; I know about the amnesia, Draco, but I'm here to help you get better." She smiled, "I'm Pansy Parkinson, your girlfriend."

Girlfriend. The word echoed in his head, for some reason scaring him more than it usually would. "_What?_" he said in disbelief. "You can't be my-my girlfriend?"

She tucked one of his hairs behind his ear, "Oh, Draco, do you think I'm too good for you? It's really not the case. I love you, you don't know that, but you should. I wasn't ready to tell you, but when I found this out, I realized that any day may be our last. So I just needed to tell you this instant. I love you, Draco Malfoy."

With that said, Pansy wrapped her arms around his neck and placed her lips on his, kissing him. Draco at first didn't know how to react as Pansy ran her tongue across his bottom lip. For some reason unbeknownst to him, he parted his own lips, and deepened the kiss, placing his hands at her waist. She moaned and pulled away, smiling with her eyes closed.

"See?" she whispered, "I knew you'd remember."

Draco stayed silent, not knowing what to tell her. He just shrugged.

Pansy giggled, "I'll see you later, Draco." She kissed him lightly on the lips and ran her hand through his hair before smiling and catwalking away.

Draco rubbed his eyes. "Damn," he muttered, and then walked to lunch.

* * *

The studying with Hermione had gone silently and awkwardly, only speaking to each other when necessary. Apparantely, she was still upset about what he had said, although he didn't mean it at all the way she had thought. For some reason, this silent treatment Hermione was giving him was causing him to think constantly of ways he could apologize. He didn't know why it bothered him so much, all he knew was that he needed to get her talking to him again. He was walking over to the Hospital Wing for his daily checkup when he heard voices outside the door. He pressed himself against the nearest wall and listened.

"I need to see my son this instant!" cried the voice of a man, a voice all too familiar to Draco. It was his father, Lucius Malfoy.

"Sir, I'm very sorry, he hasn't come in yet. If you could just wait-

"I shall not wait, and I do not wait. Get him here right this second!"

"I have no control over where the boy is, Mr. Malfoy," explained Madame Pomfrey, "Please understand, you could just take a seat."

"Ugh," spat Lucius with disgust, "The incapability of the staff here is insufferable. I'll be back tomorrow."

The clicking of Lucius's shoes got closer and Draco stepped out from his hiding place. At first, Lucius's eyes were menacing, but then they turned to something that looked like understanding; Draco didn't buy it.

"Why were you yelling at Madame Pomfrey?" asked Draco seriously, "She helped me, you know."

Lucius laughed a little. "Oh, Draco, it was just that I needed to see you."

Draco's eyebrows furrowed, and he slowly pulled up his sleeve. "Is it about this?" he asked.

Lucius's smile turned into a frown immediately and he yanked Draco's sleeve over the mark. "Don't you dare show that to anyone!" he hissed. "If you do, there shall be consequences, you stupid boy!"

"It is though, isn't it?" Draco croaked, "I'm one of them, aren't I? I'm like you." And that scared Draco more than anything.

Lucius put a hand on his son's shoulder. "You should be proud, Draco," he whispered, "Working for the Dark Lord. He has chosen you above all others to perform a critical task. Do not fail him."

"What if I don't want to work for him?" he cried, brushing off his dad's hand.

Lucius slapped his son across the face and Draco intook a sharp breath. "Don't you _ever _doubt your duties, do you understand me?" Lucius told him, his eyes daggers.

Draco put a hand to his cheek, which was burning and turning red. He simply looked at his father with disgust, his eyes watering, not wanting to believe what he had just done.

Taking his silence as submission, Lucius pushed past his son and walked away from him, Hogwarts, and out into a world Draco didn't want to be a part of.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Okay, in this chapter, we see some Draco and Hermione awkwardness, which I just love to write :) You've guys been really awesome with the story alerts..._

_But please review! :)_

* * *

In the Malfoy Manor, there was an uproar.

"But, it isn't Draco's fault!"

"Silence, Narcissa!" hissed Voldemort, sitting atop his chair at the head of the table. Narcissa cried and ran out of the room, unable to maintain her emotions. She didn't know how Voldemort planned to get her son's memory back, and frankly, she didn't want to know.

"If I may speak, my Lord, the boy did not plan to lose his memory. And, with your great power, we may most certainly find a way to bring his memory back," said Lucius, tilting his head slightly so as not to look Voldemort straight in the eyes.

"I agree with you, Lucius. However, I am steps ahead of you. You see, I also believe there is a way for Draco to regain his memory. And I have found a soul that is in the perfect position to do so." Narcissa heard this and came quietly back into the room, hindering at the door frame.

"Ah, Narcissa, deem yourself worthy to join us again?" said Voldemort with a sneer. Narcissa looked down, unable to stare at who had taken refugee in their home without permission.

"Forgive her, my Lord," said Lucius, "She is merely a woman, and she is controlled by her emotions, which are now extreme because of the memory loss of our son."

"I didn't ask you to speak for her, Lucius, although I somewhat agree," said Voldemort, "Women have no strength in these matters."

"But my Lord!"

"Bellatrix, you know you are an exception," said Voldemort, the kindest they'd ever heard him speak. "Now, for my plan we required someone. Someone who could get into Hogwarts without being seen. Someone who's already done it one time."

Voldemort snapped his fingers and two Death Eaters brought out a woman, her face covered with a bag. She was shaking in her deep green outfit and violent purple shoes.

"Everyone," said Voldemort, "This woman is the key to Draco's memory and the key to the continuation of my plan."

There was a murmer around the table, because everyone wanted to know who was hidden underneath the bag. As if Voldemort knew this, he flicked his wand and the bag flew off, causing the woman to shriek and cringe in his presence.

This woman, part of Voldemort's new plot, was none other than Rita Skeeter.

Voldemort smiled, his teeth rotten and black. "Imperio," he whispered, casually hitting Rita Skeeter with an unforgivable curse.

* * *

Hermione was eating in the Great Hall sitting next to Harry and Ron, who were looking at her quite curiously as she literally stabbed her food.

"Er, Hermione?" asked Ron, being the bravest and trying to find out what was wrong with their friend.

"What?" she asked angrily, slamming her fork down on the table.

"Nothing, nevermind," said Ron quietly, looking at Harry for support.

"What he's trying to say is, we're wondering if you're okay," explained Harry.

"What are you talking about? Of course I'm okay, I'm just fine." The truth was, though, that she wasn't. Hermione wasn't fine ever since she turned around and saw Pansy kiss Draco. She didn't know what came over her, but she felt...something. Something that she didn't like. She had always hated Draco by default, knowing him to be nearly enemies with Harry and a bully to Ron, and even herself sometimes. But now, he was a completely different person. It was as if he had gotten a chance to start over, and she felt different about him. And when he kissed Pansy, Hermione just wanted to...

"Hermione?" asked Ron, waving a hand in front of her eyes. When she didn't respond, Ron turned his head to see where her eyes were looking. To his surprise, and strange disappointment, she was staring directly at Draco Malfoy, who was sitting in the Slytherin table by himself. That is, until Pansy Parkinson swiftly sat down next to him and kissed him on the cheek. That's when Ron heard a clank, and when he looked back, Hermione's fork was stabbed into the table and Hermione was walking quickly out of the Great Hall.

"What's wrong with her?" asked Harry, earnestly worried.

"I dont' know, but I think it has something to do with Malfoy," said Ron, his jealousy inevitably obvious, "And I don't like it."

"Oh come on, Ron," said Harry, "I'm sure Hermione's fine. She's clever, and smart, and great at dueling."

"I know," mumbled Ron, blushing slightly.

"Exactly, mate. So if worst comes to worst, she'll know how to get out of a messy situation," said Harry, patting Ron on the back. "And I doubt she likes Malfoy, who in their right mind would?" he added with a grin that made Ron feel better.

* * *

Hermione fidgeted in her chair as she waited for Draco to arrive at the library. When he did, the butterflies in her stomach seemed to multiply and she didn't know how to tell them to shut up. She didn't even know what they were saying. What _were _they telling her? What did this all mean?

"Hello," he said casually, sitting down and taking out his books. "So, we're in for another boring lesson, are we?"

Hermione gave a little laugh. "I suppose we are."

They sat in silence for a while, until Draco decided to speak. "Are you going to start or-

"SoyouandPansy,huh?" asked Hermione, too fast to stop herself. By the time she had finished she felt completely mortified, trying her best to not just get up and run.

Draco just shrugged. "It's a bit strange to be perfectly honest. I don't know her at all and she just comes up to me and kisses me telling me that she's my girlfriend. I say she's mad, I mean, I'm out of her league and she's much too clingy. Maybe to her it's alright, but I don't fancy her anymore, she's not my type, although she may still think I'm hers."

"Perhaps," said Hermione shyly.

"Perhaps," he agreed, "But I don't see her the way she thinks I do. She's a little, insane, you know? And I think this other guy in my year likes her, Blazini, Bambini-

"Zabini...Blaise, Zabini," she told him quietly.

"That's it," said Draco, "Yeah, Zabini definitely fancies her. He might be better than me for her, I think. I don't know what she sees in me. I'm a bit off my rocker now, aren't I?" he said with a somewhat bitter laugh.

"Oh, no," said Hermione. "You're not off your rocker. It's not your fault that you hit your head. Well, maybe, it is," she added as an afterthought.

Draco laughed. "It is. Although I blame it on Crabbe and Goyle. The imbeciles were never worth anything more than protection and goons. Their fathers are slightly more intelligent than they are, although its the first pure blood family I've seen turn out so thick."

"Yeah," she said with a smile. "But you're not all that bad. I like you much more now than before."

Draco looked up and their eyes locked. "Maybe," he started cautiously, "Maybe then, it's not so bad, this whole memory loss ordeal."

Hermione took a deep breath, "Maybe," she whispered.

Suddenly, Draco felt himself rush backwards and his head began to hurt. He saw an image...it was a dark room with deep red velvet couches and dark green walls. A woman was lying on one of them, sobbing. When she turned her head Draco realized it was his mother.

"Azkaban! They took him to Azkaban!" she shrieked, the tears running down her face. Then there was two small hands that ran across her hair, soothing her, comforting her. They were Draco's.

"Draco, what is it?"

Draco opened his eyes and saw Hermione's face a lot closer than before. Instinctively, he began to lean in, but then realizing what he was doing, he sat back. Little did he know, that Hermione felt a pang of disappointment.

"It's another one of those flashbacks I get," he said, masaging his temples.

"You're getting those a lot," said Hermione worriedly. "Do they hurt?"

Draco shut his eyes tight. "My head feels like it's burning, but the memories themselves don't hurt, they just...are."

He opened his eyes and saw Hermione's face looking sadly at his own. "Are you alright, then?"

"I'm fine," he said, "I just don't understand. It's always with you."

Hermione blinked and Draco just stared at her, bringing his hands down to the table, close to hers. He felt like reaching out and holding her hands in his, intertwining their fingers- wait, _what was he thinking_? He couldn't just go and grab a girl's hand just because he felt something. And he didn't need any more trouble with his father, and dating a Muggleborn might just be that: trouble.

"Oh, Merlin!" yelped Hermione.

Draco snapped out of his thoughts and looked frantically around, wondering what Hermione had seen. "What is it?" he asked, "What's wrong?"

Hermione pointed to the far end of the table they were on and Draco, seeing what she was fretting about, smiled, "It's just a beetle," he said calmly. He scooped it on a piece of parchment and walked towards a window, placing it on the windowsill and closing the shutters. "There, all gone."

Hermione laughed. "I'm terrible, aren't I?"

Draco looked at her seriously. "No, you aren't." Hermione blushed and Draco didn't know why he had said that.

"Well then," said Hermione nervously, "Should we start with our lesson?"

Draco thought for a moment. "You know, this teaching thing is been going very one-way. I think that I have a lot to give, although most of it I've lost along with my memory. I'm going to teach you something."

"What?" asked Hermione, unable to contain her eagerness.

Draco smiled a crooked smile. "I have to think of something."

"Alright," said Hermione, flipping open a book, "When you do, let me know."

"Of course," said Draco, and he looked at her a moment before opening his own text.

* * *

An hour later at the Malfoy Manor, a beetle was climbing through the window to the room were Voldemort and his Death Eaters sat waiting.

"Ah, our wait is over, my friends," announced Voldemort.

With that said, the beetle that had now made its way to the center of the room, transfigured into Rita Skeeter, whose eyes were blank and distant.

"Lucius, extract the evidence," commanded Voldemort.

"Yes, my Lord," replied Lucius, and with his wand he removed a memory from Rita's mind, which was being currently controlled by the darkest wizard. He put the memory into a vile and handed it carefully to Voldemort.

"Perfect," said Voldemort, caressing the vile, "At least you did not drop and break this, Malfoy, unlike the prophecy," chided Voldemort.

The Death Eaters around him sniggered and Lucius looked embarassed, but with one stare from Voldemort, they all silenced.

"Crabbe, Goyle," hissed Voldemort, "You didn't hear me pick _your _excuses for sons, so I would not be acting like fools if I were you. The consequences could be dire." After snapping at them, Voldemort turned back to the vile, which he poured into a Pensieve. "Rodolphus!" he called out, "Come here!"

One of the Death Eaters stood and approached him cautiously. "What is it you wish, my Lord?"

"Dip your head into the Pensieve and tell me what information we can obtain by the memory Miss Skeeter has so graciously attained for us," said Voldemort with an evil smile as he mentioned Rita's name.

Rodolphus did as he was told, and a few moments after, he emerged from the memory.

"What is it? Tell me now!" demanded Voldemort.

"It's the mudblood, my Lord," he told him shakily, "She seems to be the key to Draco Malfoy's flashbacks. He says himself that he remembers things when he is with her."

"Thank you, Rodolphus. Go sit back down."

Once Rodolphus had taken his seat, Voldemor turned to Narcissa and Lucius, who were waiting for his decision. "Well, Malfoys, it seems that there is something going on between your son and the mudblood. She is the key to his memories, and for that, she must be brought to me. Because what we need, what Draco needs, and what I need, is her soul."

* * *

_A/N: Bet you didn't see that coming :) I have the plot all planned out and I'm so excited to start writing it! Please review and tell me what you think, because I love reviews._


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Woohoo! I'm on a roll! Or so I think :) _

_You guys, I really want you to review! I love when I get just one review per chapter, but I'm not getting as much feedback as I hoped. _

_This chapter contains lots of drama and crushes, which I know you all love; so read, enjoy, and please review!_

* * *

Draco woke up drenched in sweat, another night flooded with a nightmare of piercing slit-eyes and nostrils that flared. He forced his eyes open, haulting the dream, for tonight. He awoke in the dormitory, still unfamiliar to him, making him feel as if he was in some sort of vacation, soon to be taken back home to the Manor. Deciding he couldn't stand being up in this strange room any longer, with the memories of the nightmare still floating around his bed, he slipped on his shoes and put on a robe atop his nightgown, grabbing his wand and heading downstairs.

He walked through carpeted hallways, his footsteps muffled by deep green rugs. However, this didn't stop from a hooked-nose teacher from turning the corner Draco was coming upon. Draco heard the man's heavy footfalls and pressed himself against the wall; this, however, was to no avail.

"Draco?" The voice was familiar.

The blonde Slytherin boy looked up at the first familiar face he'd seen in a long time. "That's right," said Draco, breathing a sigh of relief, "You work here, don't you?"

Snape looked unimpressed. "So the memory loss is true? It isn't a rumor thought up by the troublemaking students?"

Draco shook his head. "No, it isn't, unfortunately. It's glad that I ran into you though, I needed someone that I knew."

Snape nodded curtly, and suddenly Draco doubted himself.

"You're- you're still-?" asked Draco cautiously.

"Yes," said Snape simply, "I'm still on your side. And I'm still protecting you," he added, more quietly.

"What are you talking about?"

Snape looked down. "Nothing, nevermind. Are your extracurricular activities going well?"

"What do you mean?" asked Draco, getting more confused by the second.

"The Yule Ball is in a week, meaning, so is Christmas," answered Snape, as though what he was trying to tell him was obvious.

"Since when does Hogwarts host Yule Balls?"

"Since the Triwizard was held here. Dumbledore, the old cook, has decided to make it a tradition of sorts," said Snape, "I supposed that you might be thinking of asking another student to accompany you. Perhaps, you had someone in mind?"

"No, I hadn't thought- I didn't even know there was a ball!" exclaimed Draco, much too quickly.

"Well," said Snape, "Now you know. You should enjoy yourselves. Not everyone has the commodity of forgetting the past. I'd take advantage of it."

Draco nodded. "Thanks."

"Don't mention this act of kindness to anyone," Snape demanded dryly. "Don't want to ruin my...reputation."

Draco laughed a little. "And what does that reputation say about you?"

Snape looked solemn. "Only the worst."

Draco turned more serious, and nodded. "You're not all bad, you know," he said, starting to walk away. "Thanks again," he called out to Snape as he turned the corner and left the teacher standing in the corridor.

When he got to his room, Draco was left with thoughts of what Snape could've meant when he had said he was still protecting him...By the morning, however, those thoughts were replaced by others that were, to Draco, much more nerve-wracking. They were about the Yule Ball and who he was planning to take. Originally, he didn't want to take anybody at all. He even rather not gone, but something in the back of his mind was telling him that he should go, and who he should take. The thing was, he wasn't sure why he was thinking about taking this person.

"So," said Hermione, as Draco walked into step with her in the halls between classes. "How have your grades been? I know they probably aren't too high. But that's natural! I'd probably not get high marks if I lost my memory." Her face, mentioning this, turned that to dread and Draco couldn't help but laugh.

"Out of all the things to fear when losing your memory, you worry about getting poor marks," he explained, "That's stupid."

Hermione looked hurt, "Well, it's not stupid to me!"

"Well," Draco retaliated, "You haven't actually lost your memory, have you? You haven't actually been through all the things you've lost that may happen to include- Merlin forbid!- poor marks."

Hermione swallowed hard. "I didn't mean it like that. I just got angry, I guess, at that comment you made, about me being stupid."

"See, that's the problem right there," said Draco, stopping. "You misunderstood. I didn't call YOU stupid, I called the fact that getting good grades is your top priority stupid. Don't you have other things that you care about?"

"I care about plenty of things, and people," she said softly.

They looked at each other, their eyes not turning away from the other. Suddenly though, Draco broke the gaze and continued to walk, Hermione following close behind.

"Have you heard about the Yule Ball?" said Draco, attempting to make it sound as if that question was simply to make conversation.

"Of course I have," said Hemrione, and then, realization hit her. "You didn't know! Oh, I should've told you. I'm supposed to help you remember all of these facts, yet I don't help you socially. I'm a terrible tutor."

Draco put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You're a brilliant tutor, get over it," he told her with a crooked smile. And when he took his hand away and continued to walk, Hermione felt that very spot begin to tingle with happiness. She didn't know how to make it shut up.

"Why did you ask? About the Yule Ball, I mean," she said, breaking the silence that had been going on for a few moments.

"I just…" Draco hesitated, but pressed on. "I thought that I wouldn't know who I would be likely to take. I thought that you might know someone that I could take that, with my memory back, I'd be seen walking around with or talking to."

And then, he saw the somewhat crestfallen look Hermione had on her face. "Sure," she said quietly.

"Or it could be someone unexpected, someone that would blow people away, and blow me away," he added, looking directly at Hermione, whose face seemed to be beaming subconsciously.

"I'll let you know if I think of someone," she said, and walked away from him, smiling and blushing in spite of herself.

* * *

Hermione walked into the Gryffindor common room and saw Seamus Finnigan sitting on one of the couches. He seemed to be muttering to himself.

"Are you alright?" she asked, and when he heard her voice he nearly fell off the couch.

He looked at her, as though in a daze. "I am now."

Hermione blushed and sat down on one of the chairs, flipping through her Charms' notes. "So I haven't really seen you much these weeks; seventh year treating you well?" she asked casually.

He grinned. "Blimey, you could say that," he told her, and sat down in front of her.

Hermione looked up and stared at him awkwardly. "Well, Seamus, that's good."

"What are you doing?" he asked curiously, and, if Hermione was right, a bit nervously.

"Charms homework, have you finished it yet?"

"No, I've had other things occupying my thoughts," he said, looking down.

After a few minutes, Hermione cracked. "Can I help you, Seamus?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

"You're just, well, sitting there!" said Hermione exasperatedly. "It's extremely distracting."

"Am I distracting you?" he asked with a very cheesy grin.

"Seamus, you are," replied Hermione, a bit confused. "I need to get on with my homework."

"Just one more thing, before I go," he said, getting up next to her.

"This better not take very long," said Hermione, turning around to face him. What she did _not_ expect, was for Seamus to take her hands in his.

"Hermione," he said lovingly, "I know, I know we're not that close. I do, really. It's just that I've just recently realized that you're…beautiful. And as close to perfect as any person can ever get. I just thought, that maybe, we could- together- go to the Yule Ball. If you don't want to," he added quickly, "You don't have to. You could just think about it."

Hermione was flattered by his words which were so honest and caring. And she was much too nice of a person to say no. So, even though there was something itching in the back of her mind, she told Seamus: "I'd love to," with a nice, polite, smile.

It was when he left the room, nearly jumping into the dormitory, that Hermione felt a pang of regret. She realized, that very moment, so inconveniently at that exact time, that it wasn't Seamus, a caring, sweet, guy, who she wanted as her date. She wanted someone unexpected, someone that would blow everyone away, and someone that would blow her away. And that person, she sadly figured out, was Draco Malfoy.

* * *

Ron was sitting innocently on his bed when Seamus danced into the dormitory.

"Bloody hell, what's up with you? Did someone put a jelly legs curse on you?" asked Ron, already getting out his wand.

Seamus laughed and flopped down on the bed. "Oh, no. I just asked out Hermione Granger to the Yule Ball."

Ron paled. "What?" he croaked. "How? When? Why?"

"Well," said Seamus, not being able to stop smiling. "What- I asked Hermione to the ball. How- I held her perfect hands and told her how beautiful she was. When- just right now. Why- because I like her a lot."

Ron slumped down onto his bed. "That's...that's, fine, Seamus. Fine," he whispered.

Seamus nodded. "Really fine."

Then Ron shot up. "What did she say?" he asked desperately.

Seamus grinned. "She said yes! Blimey, I never thought she would!"

"I have to go take a cold shower," said Ron, and by the time he got to the bathroom, he was shaking. And he hadn't even run the cold water yet. So, Hermione had said yes. After years of thinking he had a chance, she had said yes to _Seamus Finnigan. _Was she that blind? He shook his head and stared at the water. This wasn't exactly a productive solution to his problems. He decided that he needed to show Hermione what she was missing. He needed to make her jealous and regret her choice. That's when he realized what he needed to do.

"Where are you going?" asked Seamus, confused as Ron stomped out of the dormitory in his pajama bottoms.

"I'm going to prove myself!" cried Ron quite dramatically, and Seamus just shrugged and flopped back down on his bed.

Ron had in his hands the Marauders Map that Harry had left so conveniently when he went to go to the library, probably to snog Ginny. The thought made Ron shudder involuntarily. It was alright though, Harry was his best mate. Ginny couldn't have picked a more approving choice.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," Ron whispered, and then he saw the name he was looking for and headed into a classroom on the third floor. It was empty, except for a girl who was practicing a transfiguration spell on a teacup...a teacup with scales.

"Er, hello," said Ron awkwardly. The girl jumped and turned around; seeing him, her face glowed.

"Ron!" she cried, and ran up to him, stopping an inch away.

"Lavender," said Ron with a kind smile. "I wanted to ask you something."

"Anything!" she said, her face turning bright red, contrasting with her blonde curls.

"Would you, Lavender, come to the Yule Ball with me?" asked Ron.

As an answer, he got a kiss full on the mouth. And Ron, not knowing he'd enjoy it so much, replied with equal excitement, continuing it on the couch next to them, forgetting for the time being about Hermione and the pain she'd caused him.

* * *

Draco was walking alone down a dark corridor, when out of a classroom stepped out Pansy, wearing her Hogwarts skirt inches shorter than normal.

"Hello, Draco," she said, walking slowly up to him.

Draco stayed put, not sure how to respond. "Hey, Pansy. What are you doing here?"

She waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, it's nothing. So, have you heard about the ball? I didn't want to mention it before, so that you'd have time to think," she told him, holding both of his hands, "About us."

Draco gulped. "Oh?"

She smiled. "Yes. And now, that you've had you're good amount of time to realize that we're supposed to be together, I feel safe to ask you, would you like to go to the Yule Ball with me?"

Draco paused. He thought about Hermione, and how she hadn't spoken to him since their conversation that morning. Was she ever going to figure out how he felt about her? Or maybe, she thought he had actually meant for her to find someone for him. She probably hadn't understood the double meaning of his words. How long would it take her to find the answer to whether or not they belonged together? He knew he couldn't wait forever. He was a Malfoy, after all. And for this reason alone, he stepped a bit closer to Pansy and said, "Of course I'd like to go with you."

She squealed and threw her arms around him, pulling her into another one of her mindblowing kisses. Draco pressed his hands on her lower back and Pansy tugged on his hair. She reached behind her and found a doorknob to one of the broom closets and opened it, throwing Draco inside, pulling their lips apart. She walked in with him and shut the door, enveloping them in darkness.

"I knew you'd come around," she whispered next to Draco's ear. She then threw herself ontop of him once more, and they kissed until they heard people walking outside.

And just like that, three people tied together by unrequited love, all ended up with the wrong match, and this would only lead to disastrous consequences.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: IMPORTANTE: I accidentally said Seamus was in seventh year in the last chapter, meaning that they're all in seventh year. They are _not. _They are all in sixth year, that was just a typo. Silly me :) _

_Anywho, review!_

* * *

Lucius Malfoy stepped into the living room of his home, now shared by someone he dreaded. The lights were dimmed and Voldemort sat in the highest chair, stroking his snake, Nagini.

"Ah, Lucius," he said, permitting Nagini to slither away, "Did Wormtail tell you that I wished to speak with you?"

"He did, my Lord," said Lucius, bowing slightly.

"Sit, sit," said Voldemort, magically making a wooden chair appear. "I have something to tell you."

Lucius obeyed and sat, finding the chair to be extremely uncomfortable, although that was expected. "What is it, my Lord?"

"You see, Lucius, I have found the container necessary to keep a soul," said Voldemort, a glint in his eyes.

"If you don't mind me asking," said Lucius quietly, "Shouldn't it just be any container? Not one in specific, I believe. Isn't the process similar to that of creating a Horcrux?"

Voldemort's eyes widened. "_YOU DARE TO SPEAK TO ME OF THAT?" _he cried, standing up and pointing his wand between Lucius's eyes. "I told you that piece of information because I know you are trustworthy! Or are you not?!"

Lucius cringed, "I am trustworthy, my Lord, forgive me for speaking of it."

Voldemort's nostrils flared and he sat back down, his wand still tightly gripped in his hand. "I will let this moment of misjudgment pass just this once, Lucius. Now, as I was saying, I have the container in which to put a soul."

"That is wonderful my Lord," said Lucius.

"It is, and I have it right here." Voldemort removed a necklace from his pocket and handed it to Lucius. "Is it not perfect?"

Lucius examined it. It was a long gold chain with a single charm attached to its end: an opaque gold heart that looked old and worn. "Is this charm here where the soul will be kept?"

"Of course it is," said Voldemort, "It opens with a specific dark spell. A dark spell that places the soul within it. A dark spell that I alone know."

"Briliance!" said Lucius, admiring it, knowing that it alone would bring Draco's memory back.

"I'm glad you agree with me," said Voldemort. "Now, just one thing."

"Anything," said Lucius, before he realized what he was agreeing to.

"You must give it to Draco."

* * *

It was the day of the dance and not one person had spoken of their dates, except for maybe Pansy and Lavender, who were bragging about Draco and Ron whenever they got the chance. This, obviously, got to Hermione's ears and nearly made her heart break. She felt for some reason completely embarassed, thinking that Draco might know that she was going with Seamus. Seamus, of all people! Yet, she couldn't escape from him forever, because he found her as she was scurrying out of A History of Magic.

"Hermione, wait!" called Draco, who had been feeling guilty for the past week, trying his best to avoid Pansy until he had to go with her to the ball.

Hermione, however, didn't wait. She continued to walk, so Draco ran.

"What is it you want, Draco?" Hermione asked dryly. She felt a little remorse though because she knew that it wasn't Draco's fault that she had agreed to Seamus's proposal. It was her fault. She just found it easier to blame it on someone else.

Draco looked flustered. "What do you mean, what do I want? Who do you think you are now? Just because you're going with the Irish bloke, eh? Does that make you so much better than me! Me, who's going to the ball with a pureblood who's a fantastic kisser? I think I won," he told her angrily.

Hermione's eyes were brimming with tears. "You- you, horrible terrible person! I thought you had changed! I had hope that maybe..." but she trailed off and just ran away.

Draco looked after her with longing.

"You stupid git!" he told himself.

* * *

"Happy Christmas Hermione!" cried Harry as she climbed into the common room. He ran up and gave her a hug, and Hermione felt wanted again.

"Hey, Harry. Happy Christmas to you, too," she said, smiling again. She looked down and saw Ron sitting moodily on the floor. "How about you Ron? Happy Christmas?"

"Not so far," he mumbled angrily, staring at the fire.

"Well I know how to improve it," said Hermione, sitting down next to him. Little did she know, simply doing that already was an improvement for Ron.

"How?" he asked, not moving, but interested.

Hermione grinned, "Presents."

Ron's ears immediately perked up. "Let's open them, shall we?"

With that, the three friends started ripping open wrapping paper. Ron, Harry, and Hermione all got knitted sweaters from Mrs. Weasley, whom they all wrote back to saying they'd wear them straight away. Hermione gave Harry some magic tape, for whenever his glasses would break and she might not be there; Ron received some Chocolate Frogs.

"I knew you still collected them," said Hermione, looking pleased as he ate them and searched for new cards.

"Thanks a lot," he said, blushing.

Hermione then proceded to opening her presents. The first was from Harry. It was a bracelet that lit up when you were most happy.

"That's so fantastic," she said as she put it on, "I'll never take it off."

Harry grinned and Hermione moved to the next one, from Ron. When she opened it she found a journal binded in beautiful red leather, which was ingraved with a sunflower. Inside was a note from Ron, written onto the first page.

_Dear Hermione,_

_You always seem to have your nose in a book that's written by someone else. Trust me, I know. So here's a blank journal so that you can write your own story, one much more interesting and much more brilliant than any other found in the books at the library._

_Happy Christmas,_

_Ron_

Hermione couldn't stop smiling, even as she looked up and hugged Ron, who, if wearing it, would've lit up the bracelet Harry got her. "Ron this is perfect!"

When she thought she was finished, she saw that there was something else: a small, emerald velvet box. Hermione looked puzzled when she saw her name written in cursive on the yellow piece of parchment attached to it. Yet, she still grabbed it and lifted the lid. Inside, she saw a beautiful gold heart-shaped locket. When she lifted it, she noticed the emeralds that would magically twirl on it. She tried to open the locket, but it wouldn't budge.

"Ron," she asked, awestruck, "Could you put this on for me?"

Ron looked crestfallen but he did it anyways, holding his breath when his fingers brushed the back of her neck. Hermione put a hand on the charm. "Isn't it beatufiul?" she asked them.

"It's brilliant," said Harry, "But it could be dangerous."

"Dont' be silly," said Hermione. "It's a necklace!"

"You don't know who it's from," said Harry, picking up and looking over the note.

"Harry, if you're worried that I like this present better than your bracelet, that's silly," said Hermione jokingly.

Harry smiled, "I guess you're right."

But Ron wasn't convinced, and he stared at the locket angrily. Soon though, it passed and Hermione headed upstairs to prepare herself for the Yule Ball. She met with Ginny and Lavender who were waiting for her.

"I'm so excited for the ball," said Lavender dreamily, "I just can't believe I'm going with Won-Won!"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I can't believe you call him Won-Won," she said jokingly.

Hermione laughed a little. "Oh, come on Ginny. You know Ron puts up with you when you go off to "talk" with Harry," said Hermione, her double meaning purposely obvious.

"So Seamus, huh?" asked Ginny, directing the flow of the conversation to Hermione who immediatly felt uncomfortable, wringing her hands.

"I suppose," she mumbled.

"You don't like him?" asked Lavender, sitting closer to the gossip.

"I do, I do like him, but not like he likes me," admitted Hermione. "I just didn't want to hurt him, but now I'm regretting it."

"Why?" asked Ginny.

Lavender slapped her lightly on the arm. "Don't be thick! It's obvious she's in love with another guy. Am I right?"

Hermione blushed. "Love? _Love? _Oh, no. No, no, no. Maybe I like him a little, but love. No."

Lavender and Ginny grinned, and at the same time, asked, "Who is it?!"

Hermione looked down. "I can't say."

They dropped the subject soon after and started to prepare themselves for the ball, which they were all mutually excited for. Well, maybe not Hermione.

* * *

Hermione was taking deep breaths all the while she walked down to the Great Hall, where the ball would take place.

"Hermione," Seamus whispered.

Hermione turned to look at him, and Seamus saw that she was stressed.

"Are you alright?" he asked her, taking her aside from the crowd that was walking alongside her.

Hermione nodded. "Just nervous."

Seamus smiled kindly. "Don't be, you look gorgeous."

In fact, she did. Her dress was a deep chocolate brown, ankle-length, v-neck, sleeveless, back-revealing ensemble. Two thin strands of her hair were tied back to give her face a fresh look, while the rest had been tamed from it's usual frizziness down to soft waves.

Hermione blushed. "Thanks, I think I'm okay now."

Seamus gave her hand a light squeeze before leading her to the ball. When they opened the doors, what they saw was spectacular. The cieling shone brightly with dozens of stars, there were different colored candles flickering on the walls, the tables had been cleared to make way for a dance floor, and music was pounding from every inch of the hall. It was truly an impressive sight.

Hermione grinned. "It's amazing!"

Seamus held out his hand. "Would you like to dance?"

Hermione looked around her before accepting and letting him lead her to the dance floor. The music was fast and Hermione didn't feel so bad anymore; as she would look around, she saw Ron dancing with Lavender (who was trying her hardest to get a bit too close), Ginny dancing happily with Harry, and, then her spirits dropped, Draco standing beside Pansy who was bouncing on her heels desperate to get dancing.

"Would you like some punch?" asked Seamus, sensing her discomfort.

Hermione nodded, smiling kindly. They walked off to the punch, which Hermione realized with a pang, was right next to where Draco was standing. Seamus reached the punch first and poured Hermione a cup. She took it quickly and began to sip slowly, wanting to stay off the dance floor for as long as possible. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a seventh year Slytherin approach Pansy and whisper something in her ear. Pansy looked sideways over at Draco who was completely ignoring her and then she nodded, smiled, and walked off with the other boy. Draco didn't even notice.

"Hey, Seamus."

Hermione turned around and saw Padma Patil approach Seamus, smiling shyly. "Hey, Padma," said Seamus, "Are you enjoying the dance?"

"Yes, it's really fun," she replied, "It's just that...I came alone and, well, I was wondering if you wanted to dance?" She blushed and Hermione felt a weight lift from her shoulders.

"Sure, unless," Seamus turned to her, "Hermione, do you mind?"

Hermione shook her head. "Of course not! Go, have fun."

Seamus smiled and took Padma's hand, taking her to dance. Hermione took this opportunity to walk over to Draco.

"Hello," she said quietly. Draco looked to his side and, although Hermione didn't notice, he had his breath taken away.

"Wow," he breathed.

Hermione blushed and grinned. "You aren't used to seeing me out of my robes?" she asked; but right after she said it she realized what that could mean. "Oh, Merlin. I- you know- I didn't realize it sounded- I just thought-

"Forget it," laughed Draco. "But no, I'm not. You look..." He stepped closer. "Beautiful," he said, looking directly into her eyes. His gaze, however, moved down to the locket, and he picked it up gently from the spot it rested on her collar.

"You gave it to me, didn't you?" she breathed.

Draco nodded, letting it drop back onto her neck. "Do you like it?"

"I love it."

"Why don't we get out of here? Do you want to take a walk?" he asked.

Hermione nodded, and Draco took her out of the Great Hall and onto the grounds. The moon was glittering on the lake's water, which was surprisingly still. The trees looked like shadows that moved with the wind, and there was an owl hooting somewhere in the forest. Draco sat down next to the edge of the water, and Hermione joined him.

After a few moments of silence, Hermione felt exceptionally daring. So, she asked, "I thought you said you didn't like Pansy."

Draco sighed. "I don't. I guess she's just really good with persuading."

Hermione didn't like the way he said this, it made her think they had done something...dirty. "Oh."

"What about you?" said Draco, "Seamus? You rarely talk to him."

"He was just so nice and sincere," she said, not being able to look him in the eye, "I felt bad saying no."

"And you didn't feel bad not giving me a chance?" he asked, feeling particularly brave himself.

Hermione looked at him as he stared into the water. "I didn't know you wanted me to."

"Of course I did!" he cried, turning around to face her. "How could you not know?"

"I thought...I just have all these memories of you before, that this new you is taking some time to get used to," she said, and that was the truth.

Draco shook his head. "I wanted to enter the ball with you. You were that person that would blow everyone away."

"Really?" she whispered.

Draco gave a small smile. "Yeah."

And then, the space between them, that had grown smaller every day, finally closed. Draco put a hand to Hermione's cheek, and she closed her eyes, allowing him to lean in and finally press his lips against hers. It was light, sweet, and perfect. He pulled away, both their eyes still closed, feeling the taste of each other on their lips.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Ok, so there hasn't been much reviewing and I know that there are readers because of the story alerts! :( However, I will still write to my best potential!! :D Hope you enjoy this chapter, where more drama ensues....I know, exciting :) So anyways, slightly shorter, but still enjoy and REVIEW! _

_Oh, and **ohhhskyler**, I appreciate the wonderful offer, but I think I'll let you keep it ;)_

* * *

Draco opened his eyes and looked at Hermione, who was staring down at her hands.

"What?" he asked, his brows furrowed, wondering if he shouldn't have tried to kiss her.

Hermione's eyes found his and she looked...doubtful. "I- I just- I can't, Draco," she whispered. "I'm- I don't know if...I'm sorry."

Draco felt as if his heart had been ripped out. "That's alright," he said. "I shouldn't have done it anyways. It was a mistake," he ended bitterly and then got up and stomped away. Although as he got closer to the castle, he knew it hadn't been. He had wanted to kiss her agian. Yet, that constantly conflicted with what his family believed in, what they stood for. Could he really battle that?

Hermione fell down on the grass, not bearing to watch Draco leave. Why had she said that, you ask? Because, well, she was scared. Out of her mind. Ever since her first year here she had learned, willingly, to hate him. To hate any Malfoy, because they were the type of arrogant Purebloods that thought themselves superior to everyone else, especially Muggleborns. But then, after five years of knowing just how she felt about him, this sixth year at Hogwarts had come with a special, somewhat evil twist. And it changed Draco so much, and Hermione had started to _really like _this new Draco and wanting to be with him all the time. Yet, she couldn't help remember his voice, his face, telling her that she was a Mudblood, an inferior. It was like that other Draco, the one she had grown up with, was haunting her. And she couldn't make him go away.

She whimpered, wanting him back here with her. There were footsteps, and she shot up, wondering if it was him. But it wasn't. It was Seamus. He took a seat next to her.

"I was wondering where you'd gone off to," he said, looking at her, trying to find out what she had been doing.

Hermione felt guilty. "I'm sorry, Seamus. I just needed some fresh air. I wasn't feeling to good," she said convincingly.

"That's alright, I guess," he said slightly sadly, "I like it better out here, too." He smiled at her, and Hermione managed to give him one back. It was only polite.

Silence followed, and Hermione fidgeted with the heart-shaped charm on her necklace. Seamus eyed it warily.

"What is it?" said Hermione, noticing his tension.

He looked back up at her. "It's just, the necklace. You didn't have that before."

Hermione blushed. "It was a Christmas present," she told him simply.

"Who gave it to you?" he asked.

"Oh, nobody," she said lamely.

"It was Ron, wasn't it?" he guessed angrily.

"No, it wasn't," Hermione said. "He gave me a journal! What's wrong, Seamus? Why do you care so much?"

"Because- well, because- I- you like- and, er-

"Will you just tell me what's going on?" she demanded.

"I love you!"

Hermione swallowed hard. "Oh my."

Seamus turned a bright shade of red. "I know, I _know _I'm not your ideal choice, but you have to give me a chance."

"Seamus, I can't," said Hermione desperately, "_I _don't love you, I barely know you! And you barely know me, how do you know that you love me?"

Seamus reached out and took her hand. "I know, Hermione. I've loved you since I saw you."

Hermione slumped. "Don't do this to me," she moaned.

"Do what?" he asked, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"Don't make me hurt you, Seamus," she told him, "I don't want to hurt you, but I don't love you."

Seamus stood up and Hermione got up with him. "But you can, if you want to," he said softly.

Hermione shook her head slowly. "No, Seamus. You're not the one for me."

"How do you know that?" he asked her, stepping closer.

"The same way you know, or think, that you love me," she said honestly. "I just know."

But Seamus didn't fight back with words. Oh, no. He instead pulled her in and hugged her, pressing her against him. Hermione sighed, and put her arms around him, feeling bad that she had broken his heart. She hadn't meant to. But she did admit to herself that this felt nice, knowing someone that didn't have a strained past with you cared this much.

Seamus pulled back only slightly so that their faces were mere inches apart. "Hermione," he whispered, "Just let me kiss you."

Hermione shook her head. "No, Seamus. I can't."

But Seamus didn't listen. He pushed Hermione against the tree and pressed his lips against hers, forcing his way into her mouth, exploring inside. Hermione moaned and pushed her hands against his chest, trying to break free. But Seamus mistook that for eagerness and deepened the kiss. He ran his hands down her back and Hermione shuddered, struggling to get away. Seamus pulled away, but then started sucking her neck and Hermione tugged at his hair. This wasn't Seamus, this _couldn't _be Seamus. He stopped, though, and Hermione fell to the ground, exhausted from trying to run. He looked down at her hungrily.

"What do you say now?" he asked.

Hermione felt like crying. "Seamus, please, can't we just be friends?"

Seamus knelt down in front of her, putting his hands on her waist, looking at her. "But we're meant to be more."

Hermione shook her head. "Seamus, this isn't you. Did you drink firewhisky?"

He smiled. "No, I promise I didn't. I just thought that I might show you what I could give you."

"But I don't want it," she said, looking at him seriously.

"Alright," he said, and dropped his hands.

Hermione smiled. "Thanks, Seamus. I'm sure we'll be really good friends, is that alright?"

He looked up, dismayed. "I guess it'll have to be."

"Thank you." Hermione then got up and walked away, hoping not to give him another chance at trying to prove himself to her. It was flattering, though, that he wished to try so hard. But that was all it was. Flattering, nothing more. She knew who she wanted, and that thought made her feel worse.

* * *

Draco walked past the Great Hall, the music vibrating through the walls. He didn't feel like going back to Pansy, having her tell him she loves him, while really the only girl on his mind was the one that had just rejected him. He turned the corner and walked right into-

"Draco!" he hissed.

"Father?" asked Draco, afraid more than anything. "What are you doing here?"

"Just running some arons for the Ministry," he said casually, looking around him.

"Is that all?" Draco asked suspiciously.

Lucius looked at him straight in the eyes. "What? You don't believe you're own father? Of course that's all. Now, how was your Christmas?"

"Fine," said Draco dryly.

"Did you enjoy that charm necklace I gave you?" said Lucius.

Draco laughed bitterly. "As if I'd enjoy anything you give me. Plus, it was a bloody heart charm! What do you expect me to do with that?"

"Oh, I don't know," said Lucius sneekily. "Perhaps give it to a girl?"

Draco turned a violent shade of red. "There's no girl to give it to," he said quickly.

Lucius smiled. "You cannot keep everything from me, Draco. But it's quite alright, I suppose. I know you gave it to her." He started to walk away, but then turned and added, "Whoever she is."

Draco got goosebumps from the way his father had said that. It was as if he knew. But that was impossible, it was stupid of him to think like that. Yet, he couldnt' help but run towards the grounds, making sure Hermione was ok.

As he sprinted through the doors he nearly collided with her, and Hermione almost screamed in fright.

"Draco, you scared me," she said, putting a hand to her heaving chest.

"I'm sorry," he said, running his eyes up and down to make sure she didn't have a scratch on her body. "It's just that my father-

"Your father was here?" asked Hermione, her eyes widening.

"Yes," Draco said, breathing heavily from running over, "And he said something about me giving a gift to a girl and he said I know you gave it to her. It was as if he knew."

Hermione blinked. "Knew what? That I was your tutor?"

Draco all of a sudden felt extremely embarassed. He had thought originally that his father knew about Hermione and his's...relationship. He had thought that their kiss had meant something and that they _were _something. But he was wrong, apparantely.

"I just thought- maybe he- that, we," he stammered, not being able to look her in the eyes.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Were you thinking of what happened at the lake?"

Draco looked up and nodded silently.

"Well," she said, fidgeting with her hands, "I've been thinking of that, too. And how I reacted."

"Why _did _you say that? What did you mean?" said Draco, unable to stop himself.

Hermione looked around at the people exiting the ball. "Can we go somewhere else? I feel a bit awkward talking about this here."

"Ok," he said simply, and followed her into an empty classroom, where they closed the door and make sure they weren't heard.

"So as I was saying," said Hermione, sitting on the edge of a table, "It's not that...It's just- I'm haunted by the past, Draco. The past you. The one that would tease me and be cruel."

"But you know I'm not like that now," said Draco quietly. "Or, to you, am I still?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, no I don't think you are. You've changed so much. In a really good way," she said with a small smile. "It's just that five years of your same face acting differently, meanly, arrogantly, is a lot of time to erase from my memory."

"I'm sorry that I did that to you," he said, his eyebrows furrowing. "I shouldn't have, but then, I guess, I thought I could."

Hermione wrapped her arms around her and nodded. "And that's why I seemed...hesitant."

"Are you still?" he asked suddenly, "I mean, after explaining."

"I don't know," she whispered.

"Oh," he said. "I understand."

But Hermione threw her arms down and ran over to hug Draco, digging her face in his shoulders. Draco stumbled back a little, shocked, but then he slowly put his arms around her, too, kissing her neck lightly many times. He felt Hermione shaking and when he looked at her, she was crying a little.

"I'm just so confused," she whimpered, lying her head back on his shoulder. Draco rubbed her back and kissed her temples, her forehead.

"I'll wait," he said, stroking her hair. "For you."


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Alright, so before anything, you guys ROCK! I got plenty of reviews for the last chapter and I felt all excited every time I read them. I'm so glad you guys are enjoying this story, and if you have any questions, please review and let me know that way:)_

* * *

"My Lord, thank you for allowing me to speak to you."

Lucius Malfoy entered the dimly lit room that was all too familiar. He had been in it years ago with Narcissa playing with their son when he was just a boy. Now, however, it was occupied by a different man, a creature. Yet, Voldemort was the only person, thing, that could cure Draco, that could cure his son.

"You were being persistant, Lucius, I assumed it was something important?" he replied icily.

"Yes, sir, of course. It's about my son-"

"Your son is well on his way to regaining his memory and therefore completing the plan I had originally thought up," he said plainly. "Is that all?"

"Well, sir, I just hoped I'd be able to ask you, if you wished to answer, what comes next? He has the necklace, he gave it to the girl as you knew he would, but what now?" he asked desperately, nearly on his knees. "What happens?"

"I will surely answer you, for I relish sharing my successes with others, and I know this shall be a success," he started proudly. "You will remember of course, that I told you I alone know the spell which will open the locket and commense the sucking of the soul?"

"Yes, I do," said Lucius, listening intently.

"Well, me being brilliant and all, I thought of a way to place myself, in a sense, within the castle walls," he said with a sneer. "Therefore, I, although not _really _I, am just waiting for the proper moment in which to release the spell. And this moment shall not only include the Mudblood's dying, but it will also include Draco following her right here."

Lucius was stunned. "You mean, he will come here? The girl will make him come here? But how?"

Voldemort stood up and glared at Lucius with menacing eyes. "Do not doubt me Lucius. I have told you this before. One more question that shows your ignorance of my power will result in dire consequences."

"Yes, my Lord," he said quickly, and quietly bowed before walking out of his living room, acting like a servant in his own home. He only hoped that this plan would get his Draco back.

* * *

Draco was tapping his fingers impatiently on one of the wooden tables in the library. Today he had come earlier for a reason, to show her that he cared. To show her that he wasn't the jerk she was haunted by. But what had he come to? An empty chair. He slammed his fist on the table.

"Shh!" The librarian peeked her head from behind the bookshelf.

"Oh, you shut up," hissed Draco, flipping impatiently through his book that he didn't even bother to read. It wasn't as if they got through much studying. No- it wasn't like _that. _It's just that they ended up talking most of the time, and he enjoyed it. However, she was late. Bloody late.

That's when he heard quick, light footsteps.

"Miss Granger, there is no running in the library!" squeaked the librarian.

"Sorry," breathed Hermione, skidding and sitting down in front of Draco, panting.

"Where have _you _been?" he asked dryly.

"What? I can't be five minutes late?" asked Hermione, tucking her hair behind her ears.

"Five, yes. Thirty, no."

Hermione exhaled. "Oh, Draco, I lost track of time," she said in an apologetic tone.

"You've never been late," he mumbled.

"It's just that Seamus wanted to show me this trick he had learned on his broom," she started, smiling a little at the memory.

"_Seamus_?" asked Draco, in disbelief. "Seamus? You were with Seamus?"

Hermione looked up at him. "Yes, I was," she told him.

"Do you _like _Seamus?" Draco asked her quietly.

"No!" exclaimed Hermione, "No, of course not! He likes me, but he just wants to be friends, that's why we're hanging out."

"He likes you?" Draco's grip had tightened on the edges of the table.

"We're just friends," Hermione tried to explain.

"And what about us?" asked Draco angrily, getting up. "What about _our _relationship? Aren't we friends? At least!"

Hermione grabbed Draco's hand. "Of course we are," she said desperately.

Draco looked at it before pulling away. "Then act like it, and don't take it for granted. It's not like I'll _forget _you came late."

"I never thought that," she whispered.

"And I never thought you'd abandon this _one hour _that we have together, really together, for Seamus, a guy who just wants to be friends even though he's in love with you," he said coldly. "That's what they all say, Hermione."

"I'm so sorry, Draco, really."

"Just be careful when you're with him, alright?" he asked, more kindly now. "Do that for me."

"I promise," she answered with a small smile, knowing he wasn't so mad at her anymore.

Draco hesitated, but then stepped towards her and kissed her lightly on the cheek. "I'll see you later," he told her, and then walked out.

Hermione didn't even hear him, her thumping heart was too loud.

* * *

Draco skipped lunch, conjuring a sandwhich instead and eating it by the lake. The whole Hermione ordeal had put him in a bad mood, and had made him very suspicious of Seamus. Stupid git.

He took a bite and heard some shuffling in the grass. Probably a couple coming to snog. Brilliant. He turned around to tell them to get a room when he saw that it was just Hermione.

He scooted over to make room for her. She sat down and rested her back on the tree; they were only an inch apart.

"Have you forgiven me yet?" she asked him, staring out into the lake.

Draco stayed quiet.

"I didn't mean for you to think that I preferred Seamus over you. I don't think I prefer anyone over you," she said, and then sucked in her lips, wondering if she had worded it right.

Draco didnt' say anything, but instead ripped off half of his sandwhich and handed it to her. Hermione grinned and threw her arms around him in a hug.

"I'm sorry," she said happily, dropping her hands to her side and taking a bite off her half of the sandwhich.

"Me too," said Draco.

"Why?" asked Hermione, chewing.

"You got mayonaisse on the back of my neck," he said with a smile.

"Are you serious?" she asked, laughing. "Let me see." She lifted his hair off and saw the smudge. She accio'd a tissue and wiped it off.

"Thanks," said Draco awkwardly as Hermione threw the tissue away.

"My fault."

After that, they ate their sandwhich quietly and happily, sitting together side by side. Soon they finished and started to skip rocks on the water peacefully. That is, until a certain someone dropped by.

"Hey, Hermione."

Hermione turned around and saw Seamus waving and walking towards them. She saw Draco's face getting angry, and she squeezed his fingers quickly and reassuringly. Draco seemed to relax after that.

"Hi, Seamus," she said. "How are you?"

"I'm good," he said, eyeing Draco cautiously. "Just wondering if you wanted to come and help me research for a paper I have for Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"Oh, you mean the one on the Wackspurts?" said Hermione eagerly. "I finished that one weeks ago, it was really great."

"So will you help me?" he asked.

Hermione looked sideways towards Draco. "Do you mind?" she whispered to him.

Draco just shrugged, not taking his eyes off Seamus.

"Alright then, Seamus," said Hermione, "Let's go."

As they walked away, Hermione turned and waved to Draco, who just smiled, not too happily. After a while, he stuck his hands in his pockets and walked moodily inside. He sneaked into the kitchens, something he had just remembered how to do (of course, that was when he'd been with Hermione).

"Sir, 'tis so nice to see you, sir!"

Draco turned while taking a bite off an apple and saw an elf running towards him.

"Sir!" he squeaked.

"Do I know you?" said Draco uncomfortably.

The elf looked crestfallen and promptly began hitting his head against a wall. Draco panicked and yanked him away, causing the elf to cringe.

"Sir," he said shakily, "'Tis I, Dobby."

"Sorry, I don't remember you," Draco told him, and then realizing he'd have to explain, "I lost my memory a few weeks back. I can't remember anything after age eleven."

"Why," said Dobby, astounded, "That is correct, I suppose. You were twelve when your father bought me."

Draco nodded. "Sorry about that- the buying, I mean."

"Oh, but I is free!" he squealed. "Mister Harry Potter gave me a sock, you see."

"That was convenient," said Draco. "I haven't met him yet. Or, again."

Dobby mumbled something and then loudly said, "I is happy to see you again, Mister Malfoy! Please visit! And bring socks!"

"Definitely," said Draco, climbing out of the kitchens as quickly as possible.

When he was sure that he had walked far away from Dobby and his socks, he decided to head into the Slytherin common room. It was time to get to know his friends again. If he had friends. He sure hoped so.

When he entered it was mostly empty except for this first year sitting reading a book and this Black boy playing with some sort of tinkering thing. Draco couldn't really name it. So, he decided to sit down next to the boy to find out what it was.

"Hello," said Draco cheerily, hoping to come off normal.

The boy raised an eyebrow and snorted. Draco was kind of embarassed.

"Er, what's that?" Draco pursued.

"I don't know," the boy replied, spinning it in his palm. "I stole it off some second year Hufflepuff."

"Why?" said Draco before he even thought of what he was saying.

"_Why?_," said the boy with a kind of amused smile. "I don't know _why_. I just did."

"That's stupid," Draco mumbled.

"How is that bloody stupid?"

"You don't steal things from second years," said Draco, as if it was obvious.

"What is bloody wrong with you?" exclaimed the boy.

"Bloody nothing, you bloody boy," mimicked Draco.

That kept the boy silent.

"I'm Draco," he said, introducing himself.

"Oh," laughed the boy, "I know. We've been best friends since first year. I'm Blaise Zabini."

"So you're Blaise?" said Draco, remembering what he had heard a few weeks back when he had heard he fancied Pansy.

"Uh, yeah."

"Interesting."

"I suppose."

"So we're friends right?"

"I guess."

"Can I ask you a question that a friend would ask a friend, then?"

"Fine by me."

"What would you do if you liked a girl and she liked you but she said that she wasn't ready?" he asked quickly, hoping he wasn't giving himself away.

Blaise looked stumped. "Huh, I don't know. I'd just prove it to her that I'm the bloody best, you know? I'd say: oi, how can you not be ready for _this_?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Alright," he said, unconvinced. Yet, if he tone"I jd the concietedness down, he could kind of see where he was coming from. "Thanks." With that, Draco left, leaving Blaise with his...damn. He hadn't figured out the name.

* * *

Seamus led Hermione into an empty classroom, where he beckoned her to sit next to him on the tables.

"So, let's get started?" said Hermione, not wanting to begin with moments of tense silence.

Seamus nodded. "I just wanted to say that you're really great for helping me even after, you know," he finished awkwardly.

Hermione coughed. "Right, well thanks, Seamus. I just wanted to help."

"I'm glad we're friends," he said sincerely.

Hermione smiled but, right after she did so, Seamus's eyes flashed, his pupils dialated, and he threw back his head. Hermione shrieked but Seamus grabbed her shoulders and hissed, "Soulus Exitamos!"

Hermione felt her heart bang against her chest and she fell into darkness.

* * *

Draco walked back into the castle after picking out some flowers from the gardens in the grounds. He was going to find Hermione by asking around the Gryffindors to see where she was.

What he didn't know was, that none of them had seen her, and nobody knew what had happened. Not even Seamus.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: BEFORE YOU READ. I'm really wondering what some things people put on their summaries mean. Like, what is AU? And lemons? WIP? Just wondering, let me know. Oh, and please review- you guys have been the BOMB. :)_

* * *

Draco could hear his heart beating in his ears. He was going to tell Hermione how he felt, and that was it. If she didn't want him now, he didn't know what else there was to do. He surely wouldn't wait for her. How could he? If she couldn't think of him like he was now, then when would she ever? He was about to head down one of the stairs when he was tackled to the ground, hitting his shoulder on the cold stone floor, and letting the flowers fly off in the other directions, the petals spilling over him like rain. His heart sunk. Suddenly, though, whoever had tackled him was shaking him by the shoulders and screaming.

"YOU IDIOT! YOU STUPID GIT! I KNEW YOU HADN'T CHANGED!" The voice was menacing, and hands were falling against his chest.

"What- are you- talking- about?" choked Draco in between slams. He turned his head and saw in front of him a boy with dark hair and round glasses, his green eyes raging.

"YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT, MALFOY! WHAT DID YOU DO TO HERMIONE?" he cried, stopping, breathing heavily.

"I don't even know you," said Draco irritably, one of his eyes paining him. But that's when the boy shook his hair out of his face and Draco caught a glimpse of the lightning shaped scar. "You're Harry Potter," he told him, as if he didn't know.

Harry relaxed and saw the sincerity in his awe. Malfoy honestly had never seen him before, or at least thought he hadn't. Harry got up and stood to the side of him. "You really have never met me before?"

Draco sat down on the floor, rubbing his shoulder. "Well, I don't know. Hermione told me I had, I think."

Harry suddenly snapped back. "That's right; Hermione! We have to help Hermione!"

Draco stood up quickly. "What's wrong? Where is she? Tell me, now!" he demanded.

"She's in the Hospital Wing they don't know what happened but-

Draco didn't even hear the last part of his sentence because he sprinted off in the direction of the wing, hoping that it wasn't too late, and hoping that they knew the person who had done this to her because if he...if he _lost_ her...he'd kill them. When he saw the doors his heart started racing and as he pushed through them he looked frantically around, seeing only a cluster of teachers gathered around one of the beds. He suddenly felt sick.

Professor McGonnagall was the one who turned around, and put a hand to her mouth as she saw Draco Malfoy, his face green with worry, staring helplessly at the bed surrounded by people.

"Mr. Malfoy what are you doing here?" she asked quietly.

"Hermione, I came to see Hermione," he told her desperately. "Please, where is she?"

At this, all of the teachers turned to look at him. All of their eyes said one thing: I'm sorry. Dumbledore, his eyes sharp with intensity, looked over at the boy and walked across the room towards him.

"Professor, please, Hermione?"

Dumbledore put a hand on Draco's shoulder. "I'm so very sorry, Draco. I know you've become very good friends with Miss Granger this year."

"Is she- _gone_?" croaked Draco.

"No," said Dumbledore, and Draco nearly collapsed of happiness, "At least not yet." Draco suddenly felt a jab of pain. It was cruel that he should have to go through so much emotions for just a single person.

"What is it? What's wrong?" asked Draco, controlling his voice to sound stronger. He couldn't be weak now.

"I've been observing her and it seems she's going through a process similar to the Dementor's Kiss."

"The what?" asked Draco. He figured his parents hadn't told him what it was before he was eleven.

"Where the Dementors in Azkaban, surely you've heard of those, suck out a person's soul."

Draco paled, even more than usual. "So, it's her soul? It's leaving her? How? Why?"

"Those questions are yet to be answered," said Dumbledore, looking back at the bed where Hermione lay. "If you'd like, I can leave you with Miss Granger. I'll dismiss the teachers."

Draco nodded and Dumbledore went to tell the other professors to leave the boy and girl alone. They did as they were told, and all left the room, but not before staring apologetically at Draco. When they left, the Hospital Wing became deathly quiet and Draco heard a ringing in his ears. He walked towards the bed and sat down next to it, looking down at Hermione who was pale and, when he touched her cheek, cold. It was almost as if she was...Draco couldn't bear to think of it.

"Hermione," he whispered. "Hermione, don't go, ok? Don't go. You're the only person I've come to know and I-

He stopped suddenly, noticing that under the bedsheets Hermione was covered with up to her neck, there was a faint light. How could the teachers not have noticed? He peeled back the sheets and saw that it was the necklace he'd given her- it was glowing. Just looking at it made him realize something was wrong. Hermione was losing her life, yet this necklace seemed to be glowing stronger....That's when he realized it. The necklace was taking her soul. And it was given to him by his father....His father. He always knew he couldn't trust him, even now when he didn't remember the past five years.

Draco panicked, looked around the Hospital Wing, and scooped Hermione in his arms, walking quickly, and quietly, out. He was halfway down the first staircase when he heard someone call his name.

"Malfoy!"

Draco turned around, clutching Hermione closer to him, and saw Harry Potter making his way over with a bundle in his arms. "What do you want?" asked Draco nervously.

"What are you doing?!" asked Harry angrily, staring at Hermione who was limp in Draco's arms.

Draco looked down at her, his eyes soft. "I'm helping her," he said quietly. "She's all I have."

Harry looked at him. "She can be helped here. In the Hospital Wing. You have no right to take her!"

"But I do!" he cried. "Because I think there's something I can do to stop this that can't be done in Hogwarts! I have to leave! I have to take Hermione! If not, she'll die!"

Harry looked mortified. For once, he thought, Draco might be right. Harry knew nothing could be done for Hermione here in school anymore. He'd seen Madame Pomfrey, and she had tried everything. Hermione was dying, and she needed all the help she could get.

"I," Harry hesitated, as if thinking about what he was going to say, "I want to help you. Well, not for you, but for Hermione. She's my friend, too." With that said, Harry handed him the package and Draco saw that it was a cloak.

"What's this?"

"It's an Invisibility Cloak." Harry opened it and draped it over Draco and Hermione. "Nobody will even know you passed by, at least if you don't make any noise."

Draco smiled, but Harry couldn't see. "Thanks." Then, with one last look at Harry, he walked on.

* * *

"My Lord, you called?"

"Yes, Narcissa. I wanted to tell you that the plan is nearly complete," said Voldemort. "The girl is dying, Draco will surely bring her here, and I have the boy I controlled."

"Why is the boy you controlled important?" she asked him, thinking of what the boy's mother might be wondering.

Voldermot sat down on a chair. "I suppose it's just good fun," he said menacingly.

Voldemort flicked his wand and beside him appeared Seamus Finnigan trapped in a cage, trembling madly. Narcissa looked ashamed. She had saved her son's life by ruining that of another boy, who also had a mother who loved him.

"But, you're not going to hurt him, are you?" she asked, looking at Seamus who's eyes were closed tightly.

Voldemort sniggered. "Perhaps if I'm bored."

Narcissa felt immediate guilt, especially since Seamus had whimpered at hearing that. "But he didn't have to be a part of this," she whispered, eyeing the boy.

Voldemort's eyes flared. "You are telling me that I was _wrong_?" he hissed. "If it wasn't for this boy, your son would never have his memory back and therefore, he'd be useless! He'd be _killed_."

Narcissa's eyes flooded with tears. "But why?!" she asked desperately.

"If his memory does not return, then he must be killed because he has potential to go either way in this war."

"No, no!" she told him. "He will be loyal to you, I swear it! He will be loyal!"

Voldemort looked disgusted at her weakness. "Do not try to fool me. The boy has a mind of his own. He will choose based on what he has experienced these months. And who has given him what he needed? _Hogwarts_." He spat the name. "So naturally he will be on their side! What if his memory returns of natural causes and he knows all of our plans! If this does not work, he will be killed!"

Narcissa cried in front of Voldemort who looked pleased at her despair. 'You will be killed, too' he said to himself, and he smiled at this thought.

* * *

Draco grabbed his flying broom from the bloom closet, a possession he hadn't known he had until a few moments ago. He ran out to the grounds and performed a spell that would prevent Hermione from falling off the broom when they were flying. He hadn't known how to do that either. Come to think of it, when he jumped off the ground and flew skillfully out of sight, he hadn't really know he knew how to fly. Memories were coming back much quicker now, flooding his head. But he focused on flying, not even lingering on these too long.

He was soaring through the clouds when he looked down at Hermione, her head resting on his chest.

"Don't worry," he told her. "I won't let you go. Ever."

Draco couldn't believe that Hermione could leave him. He'd be left alone. He felt with Hermione that he belonged, that he was someone important, someone good. But what if all of that suddenly went away? What would he do?

He kissed the top of her head and flew more determinedly.

* * *

Narcissa ran back to the living room, her face wet with tears.

"Narcissa, what happened?" asked Lucius, grasping her arm. "What did you do?"

She looked absolutely livid. "What did _I_ do?!" she shrieked. "I did nothing!"

Lucius stared at her intensely before pressing her against him. "What's going on?"

"It's him," she whispered, barely audible. "He's planning on killing Draco if he doesn't get his memory back. But he can't control it, Lucius! He can't control his memory!"

Lucius looked at her and kissed her on the lips. "We won't let him do that to our son. I promise."

* * *

"What do you mean?"

"He's gone, Professor. I helped him because I thought of Hermione. But I don't know where he's taking her and I still don't trust him."

Professor Dumbledore rubbed his temples, thinking hard. "Well, Harry, I think that at this time Draco isn't really sure what he's doing."

"What do you mean? He looked like he knew just where he was going," Harry told him, and then pausing a little. "Where _is_ he going, Professor?"

Dumbledore looked at the boy. "I think I have somewhat of an idea."

"Where?"

"I have reason to believe that Draco is taking Miss Granger to the Malfoy Manor."

"Why would he take her to his house? What's he doing?!" cried Harry.

"Please, Harry. We must remain calm," said Dumbledore. "I believe that Draco thinks his father might be the one behind this."

"But why would Lucius do this?"

"That's just it, Harry. _He wouldn't_."

"Then...who?" A silence fell among them and suddenly Harry paled. "It can't be, can it, Professor? Why Hermione?"

Dumbledore looked grave. "That, my boy, I do not know. All I know is that Voldemort has something planned. You must accompany me and the Order of the Phoenix."

Harry nodded. "Of course."

"One more thing, Harry. You must prepare yourself, for I think this has to be the last fight," said Dumbledore solemnly.

"You mean," Harry said slowly. "I have to kill him."

Dumbledore nodded. "I think you do."


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: I am so sorry I haven't updated in the longest time! It's just that school started and now I'm taking AP courses- that plus volleyball equals going to sleep super late every single day, so I haven't had time to write except during the weekends. Hopefully this makes up for the wait :) Review, please!_

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* * *

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The wind whistled past them, and Draco landed softly in a forest. He placed Hermione down against the grass dotted with dew and his face wrinkled as he struggled not to cry. He got up suddenly and walked away from her, screaming into the air. He fell on his knees trying to remember anything that would tell him why they were doing this. He needed to remember, yet he was scared to. Because what if remembering would change the way he felt about Hermione?

He turned around and looked at her, breathing slowly, her hands pale, the necklace glowing...He froze, realizing something. Getting up, he walked slowly towards her, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"This has to work," he whispered, his eyes swelling with tears. "This has to, Hermione, ok? It will."

He reached behind her neck and unclipped the necklace. When he lifted it up to his eyes, it shook a little towards him, and he quickly put it on himself, before having time to doubt his decision. He closed his eyes and felt a hard tug at his heart. He cringed and felt like throwing up, but then he heard a sharp intake of breath. Looking up, he saw Hermione's eyes fluttering open. He ran over to her and fell by her side.

"Hermione," he said, cupping her face in his hands. "Answer me."

She moaned. "Dra-co," she whispered slowly, weakly.

Draco smiled and suddenly felt as if everything was better. He turned around to fetch her water but a bright light knocked him over and he fell, unconscious.

Draco woke up in a dark room that was elegantly furnished. He didn't know how long it had been since he had been in the forest or, and this pained him the most, where Hermione was. He had been working so hard to protect her, and now he had given her up to who knows who.

A man stepped in the room and Draco instantly knew who he was.

"Uncle Rodolphus?"

The man seemed amused. "Well, look at that. He remembers," he said to nobody in particular, and walked out of the room. Moments later a woman entered and Draco immediately felt like running up to her. It was his mother.

"Mum," he whispered.

She smiled and immediately began to cry, running up to him and holding him close. "Draco, my Draco finally remembers. It worked, it worked, thank Merlin, it worked," she cried.

Draco became very stiff. "What do you mean: it worked? What worked?"

Narcissa pulled away slowly, not looking at him in the eyes. "Time heals wounds, my son," she said softly, as if in a trance. "That is all. Time healed. It worked. Time."

Draco pushed her away. "What are you talking about?" he asked, and then suddenly, as if realization had hit him, "Where's Hermione?!"

Narcissa looked guilty. "She's just a Muggleborn, Draco," she told him.

Draco tried to stand up from his chair but realized that he was bound down to it by a spell. "SHE'S NOT JUST A MUGGLEBORN!" he raged, his eyes filling with those familiar tears. "Just tell me where she is," he croaked pleadingly. "Mum, please."

Narcissa put a hand to her mouth and closed her eyes. She then slowly hugged him again. "Dungeons," she whispered, barely audible.

When she pulled away she looked around, frightened, but stayed their stroking his hair. Draco stared at her, seeing a double-sidedness to a mother he thought he knew. "Can you release me?" he dared to ask.

Narcissa's lip quivered and a tear rolled down her cheek. "I cannot," she whispered.

Draco felt his heart sink. "Why not?" he begged.

"Because," she told him, holding his hand, "If I do, he'll kill you."

"Very good, Narcissa," sneered an icy voice.

She jumped and instinctively stood in front of Draco. "But he's here- he's healing," she said steadily. "There's no need to kill him."

"But Narcissa, don't you realize? The girl is still alive," he said, "That means that only part of her soul is entering Draco's."

"Her soul?" breathed Draco, and he looked down at the necklace which shone a little less brightly. He clasped his hand around it protectively.

"Yes, Draco. Her soul," said Voldemort coldly. "But it isn't complete, and once the transfer begins, it cannot be paused or added on to. He has ruined the plan." His eyes turned red and he glared at Draco who still held tightly onto the necklace.

That's when Draco realized it. His memory didn't matter anymore. He didn't care whether or not he got it back, because he knew one thing. One thing that couldn't be taken away by Voldemort, or his mother, or anyone. One thing that wouldn't be affected by past memories because that was just the past. He was living now. And now he was sure of only _one thing. _

He was in love with Hermione Granger.

Draco suddenly was flooded with immense pain that shot up and down his spine like lightning. He was thrown backwards and his chair fell down, sending an echoing crash across the Manor. He was shaking and everything was turning bright. Then, suddenly, it stopped. And he was flooded by something completely different: recognition. Memories came back to him like wildfire and he knew every single detail of his life until that very day. And it didnt' make any difference. He was still in love with her. He still loved her! But now, he needed to get her back.

"What is it?!" hissed Voldemort, gliding around towards Draco. "Tell me, now!" he cried, pointing his wand at Draco's throat.

Draco looked at his mother who looked at him cautiously. Shaking, he replied. "N-nothing, I was just trying to get out of the binds."

Voldemort looked suspicious, but nonetheless said, "You think you can release yourself like _that_? Have you really lost that much of your memory?"

Draco gulped. "I guess so."

"Foolish boy!" cried Voldemort, edging closer. He seemed to struggle with the decision of whether or not to kill the boy. "I shall throw you in the dungeons until I figure out what to do with you," he hissed decidingly. "Rodolphus, Wormtail! Come here!"

The two Death Eaters entered obetiently in. "What is it my Lord?"

"What would you like us to do, sir?"

"Take this putrid boy to the dungeons," he said, and then, with an evil smile, he added, "Put him near the girl. Just for fun."

Draco was free for only seconds before the two Death Eaters grabbed him by the arms and shoved him down to the basement were he was put in a room down in the dungeons.

"Get off me!" he cried, wriggling around, "Get. _Off!_"

"We'll see you later," said Rodolphus menacingly.

Draco spat at them and then sat down on the dusty bed, the only furniture in the room. He sat in the quiet, that is, until he heard sniffles.

"Who's there?" he asked quietly.

"My name's Hermione Granger," said the voice, which sounded small and lonely.

"Hermione!" he cried, happiness taking over him. "It's me, Draco!"

It was quiet for a moment, but then she answered. "Draco?"

She sound confused and Draco's heart stopped. "Yes," he said, "Draco Malfoy."

"Sorry," replied the voice. "I don't think I know a Draco Malfoy. I can't remember anything. Something's wrong with me, I'm losing everything." She started crying again and Draco stood up in the darkness.

"Where are you?" he called out.

"Over here," she said in between tears, and Draco felt his way around until he found her, sitting in a corner. He sat down next to her and put his arm around her. Hermione at first hesitated, but then leaned her head, but then leaned her head on his shoulder. She needed someone to cry on.

"You really don't remember," he whispered, more to himself than to her.

She looked up at him, her eyes watery with tears. "I'm so scared, I don't know where I am or how I got here and who these people are," she croaked. "I keep on hearing them mention the Dark Lord, and I know that, by reading the wizard books the summer I turned eleven, that means You-Know-Who."

Draco nodded. "It does, and he's here."

"But why does he want me?" she asked, holding on to Draco tighter.

"He doesn't," he told her solemnly. "He wants me."

"Why?"

Draco suddenly remembered exactly why, and a feeling of horror came over him. "He wants me to kill Dumbledore," he whispered, scared.

Hermione pulled away. "What?" she breathed. "He's the Hogwarts Headmaster! I read about him! Why would you do that?! Who are you?!"

"No, no, no," said Draco desperately. "I don't want to, but he wants to make me in order to pay back my father who failed him. He knows that I won't do it, and so when I fail to kill him, he'll kill me instead. It will devastate my father, and that's what he wants."

All of this came as a shocking realization for him, and his heart suddenly felt very heavy.

"That's so sad," she whispered sadly, and slowly leaned back against his arms.

"You know what's the worst part?"

Hermione had tears running down her cheek again. How had she gotten herself into this mess? Stuck in a dungeon with this strange boy...

"What is it?" she asked him.

"I'd lose you," he dared to say.

Hermione froze and looked up, their eyes locking. "But I don't know you."

Draco laughed shortly, bitterly. "But you do." He pulled away and got up, not being able to bear sitting so close.

"I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "I really wish I could remember you. You seem like a wonderful guy."

But as Draco flipped through the memories he'd just regained, he knew that he wasn't. He hadn't been, ever, until he lost his memory. That's why nobody talked to him, that's why Potter had suspected him of hurting Hermione. It's because he probably would have if he had been himself. But it wasn't himself. At least not anymore, right? Could he really expect people to believe he had changed? And what if he hadn't. What if this change of heart was just temporary, like the memory loss? What could that mean for Hermione.

He turned around and looked at her. She had fallen asleep, her knees pressed against her chest. The tears on her cheeks were drying and her mouth was closed into a frown. Draco kneeled down next to her and touched her hand. This wasn't fair, any of it.

"Why did this have to happen to me?" he asked out loud, to nobody in particular.

But instead of hearing an answer, he heard a loud, deafening explosion from the top rooms. The cieling shook and little pebbles fell from the rocky walls. Dust entered through the bottom fo the door and Hermione woke up with a start.

"What's going on?" she asked panickedly.

There were screams coming from upstairs and he could hear footsteps above them running around.

"I don't know," he replied. "But I think it's time for us to leave."


End file.
